


Stuck

by benvoliio



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Domestic/horny content that takes a hard detour into angst before getting back on track, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benvoliio/pseuds/benvoliio
Summary: Tybalt continued to mash his face against Mercutio’s while he ordered their usual, and had just discovered the satisfying way the bridge of his nose fit under Mercutio’s jaw when Mercutio pulled away.“Yeah, sounds great. Thank you!” He affirmed, shooting Tybalt an exasperated look before hanging up. “They said forty-five minutes. Think you can wait that long? Or will the pizza guy arrive to find us in a… compromising situation?”“You’re gross,” Tybalt laughed. “I hate you.”“It’s called affection, love.” Mercutio grinned.





	Stuck

“Hey,” Tybalt turned to Mercutio on the couch next to him as the credits rolled. The light had faded since their Netflix session had started, and Mercutio’s face was tinted neon pink from the light of the television. “What time are the others supposed to get home, anyway?”

Mercutio looked over. “They’re visiting Romeo’s parents this weekend. Home tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” He paused the movie and began scrolling aimlessly through the recommended section. “Wanna order in instead of cooking, then?”

Mercutio hummed. “Sure. Pizza?”

“Sounds good. You want to call?”

“In exchange for a kiss,” Mercutio leaned into Tybalt’s shoulder. “I will.”

Tybalt smiled. “So needy.”

“Should have thought of that before you decided to be my boyfriend, babe.” Mercutio brushed his lips against Tybalt’s cheek. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

Returning the gesture with feigned reluctance, Tybalt pulled Mercutio onto his lap while he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. Tybalt nuzzled his cheek against the side of Mercutio’s face that wasn’t occupied by an iPhone and felt the familiar texture of Mercutio’s Saturday night beard.

“You should shave tomorrow.” He mumbled. “You’re all scratchy.”

Mercutio chuckled before sitting up slightly as the other side of the phone picked up. Tybalt continued to mash his face against Mercutio’s while he ordered their usual, and had just discovered the satisfying way the bridge of his nose fit under Mercutio’s jaw when Mercutio pulled away.

“Yeah, sounds great. Thank you!” He affirmed, shooting Tybalt an exasperated look before hanging up. “They said forty-five minutes. Think you can wait that long? Or will the pizza guy arrive to find us in a…  _ compromising _ situation?”

“You’re gross,” Tybalt laughed. “I hate you.”

“It’s called affection, love.” Mercutio grinned.

There was a pause. Mercutio raised an eyebrow. Tybalt bumped his nose against his jawbone again and let his tone fall to a soft murmur. “Well, maybe...  _ After _ the pizza guy leaves...”

“We do have the place to ourselves,” Mercutio said, and Tybalt sighed as he felt the vibrations of his voice. He shifted to the side and fell back onto the seat of the couch, pulling Mercutio down with him. 

Their fingers laced together and Mercutio wedged himself between Tybalt’s body and the back of the couch. Mercutio laid his head on Tybalt’s chest and listened, to his heartbeat, the sound of his blood keeping him alive, and to his lungs, air flowing in and out as his chest rose and fell. 

Tybalt ran the fingers of his other hand through Mercutio’s curls, twisting them absentmindedly as he stared lazily at the ceiling. He let his thoughts wander like swirling leaves in a pond. It was nice to order pizza; although cooking was a process he generally enjoyed, right now getting up and putting effort into a meal was low on the list of things he felt like doing. He’d much rather stay here on the couch, laze around eating premade food and spend a relaxing evening with Mercutio. He wondered how long they had been laying in the dark, and if they should turn the lights on before the pizza got here so they wouldn't assume nobody was home. He wasn’t very hungry yet, so probably not that much time had passed. It was fine for now. He wondered how hungry Mercutio was. He wondered if he’d be able to hear if his stomach growled. Before their latest exam, Tybalt had missed dinner because he had been studying, and Mercutio had complained about Tybalt’s noisy stomach all night. After Mercutio had sighed pointedly for the fifth time, Tybalt, too stressed about the exam to handle his passive aggressive boyfriend, had gotten out of bed and moved to the couch. Eventually, a remorseful Mercutio had followed. And after that, well, there are ways to apologize that don’t involve words. They both still did okay on the exam, despite the lack of sleep.

Mercutio opened his eyes, hearing Tybalt’s heart rate pick up. Looking down Tybalt’s torso, his view was blocked by the fabric of his boyfriend’s sweatpants. Between his legs, a tent was rising, supported from underneath.

“Uh, babe?”

“Mmmm,” Tybalt responded distractedly.

“You might want to put different pants on before the pizza gets here.”

“What?”

“Ones that aren’t as… revealing.” Mercutio tried not to laugh. He freed his hand from Tybalt’s grasp and poked the bulge. Tybalt twitched.

“Oh, God,” he said. “Great.”

Mercutio sat up and turned over. He maneuvered one leg over Tybalt until he was sitting on his lap. He could feel the stiffness under Tybalt’s sweatpants through his own boxers.

“What are you doing?” Tybalt said, a little breathlessly. “Babe, what the fuck. Sitting on me isn’t gonna help this.”

“Or is it?” Mercutio smirked.

“I’ll go get the pizza. All you have to do,” He shifted slightly and grinned at Tybalt’s reaction, “Is wait until then.” 

Tybalt groaned, partly out of exasperation at Mercutio’s antics, and partly for other reasons. Keeping his weight on Tybalt’s lap, Mercutio leaned down and drew him into a kiss. Tybalt tried to raise himself up and deepen the kiss, but Mercutio on his hips made that difficult, so he elected to drag Mercutio down instead. His fingers snarled within Mercutio’s curls and Mercutio’s hands slipped from his chest to the couch on either side of his head. It wasn’t close enough. Tybalt gasped a momentary breath before their lips connected again and he felt Mercutio’s part slightly. He seized the opportunity and slipped his tongue over Mercutio’s teeth. That was enough for Mercutio’s elbows to give out, and he fell heavily, his weight now resting over Tybalt’s entire torso, and his hands freed to explore. One pressed its fingers against Tybalt’s scalp while the other busied itself with pushing up Tybalt’s t-shirt. 

“What—” Tybalt panted when Mercutio sat up again, “happened to  _ after _ ?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t make you a mess first.” Mercutio taunted in between kisses.

“God, I love you.” 

“Yeah, you do.” Mercutio pulled Tybalt’s shirt over his head and took a moment to unbutton his own shirt before turning his attention to the newly exposed skin.

He admired the muscle filling out Tybalt’s broad shoulders and surprisingly trim waist. He loved the structure of Tybalt’s abs coming into definition when they were sparring or fucking or working out, smooth and firm, but otherwise hidden away. He ran light fingers down from the crevice of Tybalt’s collarbone, through the dip between his chest muscles, down between his abs, and over his belly button before lifting them just shy of the waistband of the sweatpants. Gorgeous. How he’d ended up with a man who was supposed to be his enemy, let alone one as beautiful as this, Mercutio couldn’t fathom. He was struck for a moment by a wave of gratitude. Resting his hands loosely on Tybalt’s chest, he looked in awe at Tybalt’s grey eyes reflecting the dim red glow of the television, his scar running over his right eyebrow down to his cheek, his infinite multitude of scattered freckles. He ran his gaze gently, lavishly over jawline, cheekbones, angular nose, temples, imagining the skeletal structure underneath. He imagined their bodies lying entwined until their skin, muscle, nails, and hair decayed and all that remained was a pair of skeletons. A pile of bones so tangled up that nobody would be able to tell what belonged to who. Eternally inseparable.

“Hey,” Tybalt reached up, brows upturned, and caressed Mercutio’s cheek. “You okay?”

Mercutio started, coming back to reality, and then closed his eyes. He leaned into Tybalt’s hand.

“You were staring.”

“Yeah,” Mercutio opened his eyes again. Tybalt met his gaze. “You know I love you, right?”

Tybalt smiled, his expression quizzical.

“I just feel like I never say it.”

“It’s okay,” Tybalt brought his other hand up to Mercutio’s face, running his thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I love you. Sometimes I get scared we’re not gonna make it, you know?”

“Babe, what’s this?”

“Like sometimes I think maybe everyone just assumes we’re just superficial. Just hot blood. I wonder when we’re gonna succumb to hatred like everyone else. I know I stand for the Montagues most of the time and I feel like people see us as just a fuck thing, right? Like I don’t really care about you, just that we’re taboo, or whatever. Stirring up trouble.

“And I think about you thinking that too, and we joke so much about hating each other sometimes I realize that I sound so serious about it and maybe you’re just going along with this whole thing thinking I just want you to be here for sex and brawling. When actually I only hate you because you love me so much and I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything to deserve you, but you’re still here and you let me insult you and laugh at you and be an ass.”

“‘Cutio—”

“And then I worry about how maybe eventually you’ll just get so tired that you’ll just give up and hate me for real. Or something will happen to you and I’ll just have to pretend like I never cared. Like I never loved you. And we’ll never get to die together like we should. I’d die for you, you know that? I’d kill for you, I’d fucking kill myself for you if—”

“Mercutio!”

Tybalt was staring up at him, eyes wide. His face was wet. Mercutio felt a tear roll down his nose, spattering onto Tybalt’s cheek. He realized he had been leaning forward and was now bent directly parallel above Tybalt, his hands pressing into Tybalt’s chest, nails embedded in flesh, elbows locked. Tybalt was gripping his wrists. He moved upright quickly and Tybalt pulled himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily. 

Tybalt turned to Mercutio next to him on the couch and immediately pulled him into an embrace. The crescent-shaped indents in his chest stung but he easily ignored them, focusing instead on the tension in the back of Mercutio’s neck, his shoulders. He tightened his grip until the strain lessened and Mercutio’s body melted against his.

“You’re okay.”

Mercutio didn’t answer right away, but when he did, his voice sounded smaller.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re allowed to be scared.”

“I ruined the moment, though.” Mercutio’s arms hung limply between them.

“Hey, hug me back, would you?” Tybalt smiled when he felt tentative hands on his back. “I love you. Not for your body, not for the fights, not because I’m some sadistic who loves having my feelings unrequited, not because I’m desperately hanging on to the pipe dream of your affection and taking the best I can get. That’s all vapor. It’s nothing. I know you love me.”

Mercutio shuddered. Tybalt pulled away, clasping Mercutio’s hands in his.

“I  _ know _ it. Deeply.”

Their eyes met.

“And if you ever think I’ll stop loving you, you’re dead wrong. No matter what. No matter how many times you insult me, how much you get on my nerves, no matter how many times you make me wait. I’m here for the long run. You’re stuck with me, babe.”

Mercutio’s mouth turned up at the corners.

“You’re using my own words against me.”

“Wonder who I learned that from.” Tybalt smiled.

Mercutio wiped his tears from Tybalt’s cheeks, then ran his hands over his own face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Thank you.”

There was a pause.

“By the way, I don’t know if you’re still feeling this, but…” 

Tybalt gestured downwards. Mercutio followed the movement to the painfully obvious bulge in Tybalt’s sweatpants.

“Holy shit. It’s still there after all that?”

“Honestly, I think it died and came back.”

“That’s so gross. You’re gross.”

“It might have been the nails.”

“Ugh! Shut up, you freak!”

They both laughed, collapsing into each other. A quiet moment passed, then they matched eyes as if bound by some indiscernible force and allowed their faces to drift softly together. Eventually pulling away from the kiss, Tybalt cleared his throat.

“So, for real, am I going to go take care of this, or…?”

“Oh, you ass! You know I’ll deal with it. Get back down, babycakes.”

“That nickname is the worst thing you’ve ever come up with, you know.” Tybalt whined, lying back down on the sofa, “I never call you anything as terrible as that.”

“And you never will, my sweetest candy man. Let me at that licorice stick.”

Tybalt snickered. Mercutio grinned, repositioning to face Tybalt. He ran his fingers over the symmetrical crescents on Tybalt’s chest before leaning down to brush his lips against them. Moving upwards, he felt Tybalt sigh happily as he kissed a trail more and more fervently up to his collarbone. He bumped his teeth against it, barely pausing before continuing along Tybalt’s neck. Tybalt yelped quietly when Mercutio nipped at the sensitive skin under his jawbone.  

“‘Cutio.”

“Mmm?” Mercutio replied, occupied.

“That again,” Tybalt breathed, “Please.”

Mercutio grinned. “Vampire style? You got it.”

“Don’t call it that, weirdo, it’s—” He cut himself short with a groan as Mercutio began to joyously kiss every bit of his neck he could reach, bruising his nose against areas already made tender.

“I love here,” Mercutio mumbled against Tybalt’s shoulder. “And I love you here. And here, and here, and here.”

“That’s fucking adorable. I hate it.” Tybalt whined, “Do it more.”

“Here,” Mercutio kissed Tybalt’s ribs, one by one.

“And here,” He slid his left nipple between two fingers. Tybalt exhaled.

“And here,” Mercutio kissed the line of Tybalt’s hips, slowly, on both sides. 

“T-there?” Tybalt murmured, “Anywhere else?” 

Mercutio smiled, slipping a hooked finger under Tybalt’s pants. 

“Naturally.”

Just then they were interrupted by a knock at the door. They looked at each other, neither making to move. Tybalt laced his fingers together behind Mercutio’s head.

“It’s probably the pizza guy.” Mercutio offered.

Tybalt pouted. “Fuck the pizza guy.”

“I mean, we could.”

“Not what I meant,” Tybalt pleaded. “Come on.”

Mercutio dipped another kiss onto Tybalt’s lips before disentangling himself. The doorbell rang.

“Can’t ignore that,” Mercutio said, standing up. “I’ll be right back, and then I’ll love every inch of you, if you like.”

“ _ Every _ inch? Especially the important ones?”

“Obviously the important ones. All two of them.”

“Hey!” Tybalt launched a cushion. Mercutio cackled.

“I’m kidding. I’ll treat you good, babe. Swear on my life.” The doorbell rang again and he moved towards the doorway. “And we’ll have pizza.”

“Mmmkay.” Tybalt agreed, deflating back into the couch. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

"...Asshole." Tybalt added, as an afterthought.

"Dickhead," Mercutio fondly replied.


End file.
